Nights of 1962
by cartoonlove
Summary: Link in unsure of his relationship with Tracy, so he takes his questions to someone who knows hardship like no one else. LinkTracy, PennySeaweed. Read and Review please. Chap. 3 up now! COMPLETE.
1. Boys' Night

Disclaimer: I do not own Hairspray, any of its contents, characters, or songs.

**Boys' Night**

"Seaweed," Link said as he was shuffling the deck of cards. Ever since the Miss Hairspray pageant ended about a month ago, Seaweed and him had taken to playing a weekly game of cards at Maybelle's place.

"Yeah?" Seaweed didn't look up from his deck. A competitive person by nature, when the cards were literally down, he was gone.

Link cleared his throat, "What are your thoughts on...Tracy?"

For some reason, Seaweed was able to pull his gaze from his cards, looking at him. "What you askin' me for? She's your girlfriend, cracker boy." then returned his gaze to his royal flush.

Looking around Motormouth Maybelle's record shop, his eyes carefully scanning over each and every illuminated title that he could see from the lone light, hanging over the table. Inez and Maybelle were already asleep, and she said as long as they didn't break anything, they were more than welcome to stay until dawn. Which was his plan anyway, ever since the pageant, the whole 'family relationship' wasn't going so swell.

After a few moments, Seaweed looked up again. "Somethin' eatin' you, man?"

Taking a few moments more to stare up at the ceiling, Link answered, "It's just, I don't know man, sometimes I even wonder why I'm with her. I mean, we're so...different. She doesn't take most things seriously, she smiles too much. You know what I mean?"

Seaweed just stared at him, incredulous. Then, smacking his cards down with a thump, he crossed his arms, "Well, of course she SMILES too much, before her, you dated that one gal, what was her name?"

"Amber."

He snapped his fingers, "That's it! Man, she sure had one huge bee up her hive."

Link let out a chuckle, he sure wouldn't miss Amber von Tussle, that much he was sure of.

"Anyway," Seaweed continued, "where's all this comin' from? You love her, man, I can see it in your eyes."

"Sometimes I don't think I do." Link blurted out.

His friend just stared at him.

"I mean," he continued, running a hand through his hair, "sometimes I think I love Tracy with my whole heart, and then there are other days, where I wonder why I'm even with her."

Another incredulous stare in response.

"It's just that, it's so hard to be with her, with Amber, it was easy, it was expected--"

"I can't believe you." Seaweed broke in, shaking his head.

Link shut his mouth in surprise.

"You think that it's hard to be with Tracy because she's not one of those tall, leggy, so-called beautiful girls, but I got news for you, Tracy has got the biggest heart and sense of anyone I ever knew. And you will never," he paused, pointing a finger inches away from Link's nose, "find any other girl like her. She stuck by us all in that strike, when all we had was each other. Where were you, cracker boy?"

In all honesty, he was too scared to answer.

"Well, you were at the studio, carin' more about your career than her. Her beliefs, her wants. She wanted you there, and you didn't go."

"Come on Seaweed, don't you ever feel like that with Penny?"

"No." a silent glare followed.

"You don't?"

"No, I love her."

"But, isn't it hard? Even though integration has happened, nothing's completely gone."

"Well, yeah, but she's what I want. It don't matter what people say, what they do, I love her, she loves me. Penny could be arrested for that feelin', and so could I. But, we survive."

Link sighed, "But what about all the obstacles? Love is supposed to be easy, right?"

"What is love without barriers? As far as I'm concerned, nothin's worth havin' if you don't have to fight for it."

Another sigh.

"You love her, you're just lettin' your thoughts run away with you. I see it, your face lights up when she walks into a room, and it gets as dark as me when she leaves. Believe me, I know when somethin' is love."

"But Trace didn't fight for me."

Seaweed gave a sarcastic laugh, "And you have? All you did was sit there while she fought her way to you."

"What do you mean?"

"She fought peoples' opinions. Which is more that you ever did. You, cracker boy, just sat there while everyone fawned over you."

"Are you saying I'm full of myself?"

Seaweed twisted his face in thought, "Not as much as before. In fact, as soon as you started datin' her, it basically disappeared."

"Then what's the problem?"

"You still don't GET it. Get the fact that Tracy's the best girl you could ever hope to get, and you're ready to throw her away because some people don't like how she looks. And I should know how much of a poison other opinions can have." he paused, averting his eyes to look out the window, where the shop across the street was closing, the sign being flipped over as he watched. He took another breath, "You can't let them win, Link. You lettin' these, these people, who don't know nothin' 'bout your life, run it."

Link just looked down, shuffling his cards again and again. When it was said like that, it DID sound stupid, immature. Seaweed was right, as always. People's opinions held more power than he had previously realized. How could he have been so blind? He thought of her smile, her laugh, and his heart swelled with admiration. So that's what it was. It felt so foreign, so new that he was terrified. He had never felt it with any other girl.

That was it, Link realized.

Because he hadn't felt that same neutral, almost bored feeling when seeing Tracy, he was convinced it was her fault, that she was different.

And she was.

But not in the way he thought.

Throwing his cards down with such brute force that Seaweed flinched noticeably in surprise, Link pushed out his chair and stood up, throwing on his jacket.

"Man, where you goin'?!" he loudly whispered.

"The Turnblads'." Link said over his shoulder, throwing open the door and venturing out into the somewhat brisk spring night.

Seaweed chuckled to himself, gazing down at his cards.

A royal flush.

...

A/N: Hey everyone! I was watching Hairspray on a loop this week and decided to play off how pig-ish they made Link Larkin seem in it. (I saw it on Broadway, he comes off MUCH better on stage), this isn't a one-shot I don't think. I still want to do a lot to this storyline. So, read, review, and thank you!


	2. LP's and Nicknames

To see the disclaimer, see chapter one.

**LP's and Nicknames**

Tracy Turnblad, laying on her back, feet propped against the wall above the top of the bed, listening to the latest highly reviewed record on "The Corny Collins Show", was thinking about, not surprisingly, Link.

As she nodded her head with the basic beat and melodies of the song, she tried to shake off that gnawing, nauseated feeling that was determined to settle in the pit of her stomach for the past, well, month, if she was being honest.

Ever since the end of the Miss Hairspray pageant, when he had kissed her, in front of Baltimore, Amber, everyone, Tracy's smile widened unconsciously at the thought, he had suddenly became...distant, irritable, almost immediately afterwards. The smile fell almost as soon as it had appeared.

"Am I really that surprised?" Tracy said out loud to no one as she gazed upon her elevated legs, the skirt had slid backwards, revealing more skin underneath. She yanked the skirt back in place in annoyance. It isn't as if she was pining each and every moment to be thin, overall she liked her plump physique. But still, she had her days.

Sighing, Tracy looked down at her candy bar, enclosed in her palm, then promptly threw it across the room, hitting the wall and falling into the wastebasket.

Covering her face with her arms, she focused on the beat, unraveling the complicated patterns that the music followed. After listening to it for a few weeks, every beat, every note, every voice was memorized.

Suddenly, there was a new beat.

Tracy drew her arms off her eyes in curiosity, turning herself over on her bed, her brown hair falling across her shoulders as she directed her gaze toward her record player. It was still in place, spinning away under the needle faster than her eyes could follow at this time of night. Luckily, Edna and Wilbur take much more than the recommended dosage of sleeping pills every night, leaving Tracy to play her music as late as she wanted. Or until the neighbors yelled angrily from their windows. Whichever came first.

Raising herself upright, rubbing her eyes and slipping her feet into her fuzzy slippers that she'd possessed since she was ten, Tracy slowly made her way across the room to her record player in the corner, right below her window.

Bending over it and inspecting the spinning circle articulately, thinking there might be a scratch or nick in it somewhere, which, knowing the number of times it had already been played, wouldn't be a bad assumption, a flash of movement in her peripheral vision caught her eye.

Tracy gasped, taking a step back. In the time frame of about one second, she had visions of masked men forcing their way through the narrow opening, herself being kidnapped, being stuffed into a potato sack and being carted away to destinations unknown.

The beat continued, and Tracy realized that was what she was hearing, it was soft, almost unnoticeable. Peering closer, her heart lept to her throat. It was Link Larkin. Clad in a striped blue vest, black slacks, and that ever-present single curl falling onto his forehead, Tracy's visions of kidnapping and death immediately vanished, replaced by visions of every romance novel she had ever read.

He was poised on her fire escape, still knocking, his eyes wide and nervous.

She shook herself out of her romantic reverie, rushing to undo the latch of her small window. Link backed up on his knees as Tracy climbed out to meet him, the warm June air filling her nostrils as she turned to close the window behind her, only leaving an inch. When she turned back to face him, his eyes were downcast.

"I was hoping you'd be up." was all he said.

"Why are you here, Link?" it came out much sharper than she'd meant it to.

"I...I needed to talk to you, I had...a realization tonight."

Tracy just looked at him, pulling her knees up to her chest.

He sighed, "Trace, I....I....I...."

Her heart fell, and she swallowed, waiting for the inevitable statement that would follow.

Link stopped his nervous stuttering, itching his knee. He had never been this nervous. Ever, he was sure. His first ever performance on "The Corny Collins Show" at the tender age of thirteen was nothing compared to this. He opened his mouth to speak again. But Tracy beat him to it.

"It's okay, Link. I understand."

He just looked at her, "What?"

Tracy took a deep, jagged breath. "I...I understand, Link. I always knew this-" she paused, tears stinging her eyes, "wasn't what you wanted."

"What I wanted." he repeated. "What is it that I want, Trace?"

A tear slid down her cheek, "I don't know, just," her voice cracked, "...not me." Another tear slid down, clearly illuminated by the streetlight on the corner.

Link felt his heart just break, here, in front of him on a fire escape on a Saturday night, the girl he was irrevocably in love with, was crying. Because of him. Obviously, his powers of communications were not as great as he thought.

"Trace." he said softly, his own voice breaking.

She bit her lip as another tear fell, glancing over at the streetlight for a moment before directing her gaze back to him.

"Is that what you think?"

She nodded, unable to speak.

"Well," he said, leaning forward and brushing a tear away with his thumb, holding his hand, so warm, against her cheek, "you're wrong."

Tracy looked up at him, sure she had heard wrong. "What?"

"I....I love you, Trace. That was what I came here to tell you."

Shock was so evident on every aspect of her features, Link was almost hurt. Was he really that bad to her in the past month?

"But...but..."

He crouched over and walked/inched to the other side of the escape, turning and gazing right into her brown eyes.

"I was...stupid. I didn't want to see it, but, now I do. I'm selfish, self-absorbed, and just plain blind. Or, used to be anyway. You changed me, Trace, and, I love you." He smiled as he said it, as it sank in. The feeling he thought he had had with Amber, no, this was the real thing. The thing he had sang about, danced to, and now, experienced.

She smiled at him, her eyes still glistening.

He smiled a tentative smile in return, as he slowly wound his arms around her waist, and she laid her head down on his broad chest. They sat that way for a few moments in blissful, understanding silence.

"Link...just tell me something." Tracy said, looking up at him.

"What?" he replied, somewhat anxious.

She sighed, "Are you sure?" still looking up at him.

Link's grin broadened at the question, and he leaned down and caught her lips unexpectedly. In a kiss so sweet it nearly took her breath away, and then, too soon, it was broken.

"More than anything, baby doll." he said, cuddling her closer, as they both, together, turned their gaze to the bright lights of downtown Baltimore.

...

A/N: Hello readers! Last night I had a dream about Tracy and Link, although Tracy was a blonde Hilary Duff in the dress from Taylor Swift's music video "Love Story", BUT, that's beside the point. I was filled with such inspiration I had to write it down as soon as possible.

As much as I think this would be a cute way to end the story, it's not entirely over, so, read, review, and let me know what you think!


	3. Checkerboard

I own nothing.

**Checkerboard**

Seaweed chuckled to himself as Link bolted out the door.

_I must have more charisma than I thought,_ he thought to himself, gathering up the cards that Link had scattered all over the table in his rush, and packing them into a neat pile. He took more time than actually necessary, focusing on making sure that all the edges were perfectly aligned, not one corner protruding out of place. Continually trying to shut out the thought that he knew would come eventually.

Furrowing his brow, he added his cards to the pile, again, smoothing out all the edges, before leaning back in his chair, flipping the fifty-two cards back and forth between his dark hands.

He sighed, closing his eyes. Even now, when communications had ceased between them (thanks to her mother), he could still remember everything about her.

Penny Pingleton.

Seaweed's heart skipped a beat just thinking her name.

He could see her in his mind's eye, so clear that she could have been standing right in front of him. Her blonde pigtails, bouncing even when not in motion, her big, innocent doe-eyes, and the ever-present lollipop in between her lips.

Biting his lip, he chuckled to himself, "Boy, you got it _bad_."

He sat up then, opening his eyes. The image vanished as he slid the cards back into their box.

How he hated thinking of her! Knowing, knowing that she was so far away, in all senses. Even when they were together, during those few precious, fleeting moments, they were still apart. Not physically, or emotionally, for he always felt her, somehow. But in a different way, a way entirely based on their skin. No matter what, they could never, ever _truly _be together.

At least not now.

Standing up and stretching out his limbs, Seaweed looked around the empty record shop. By now, the moonlight flooded in from the curtainless windows, illuminating the multiple rows and rows of LP's and their titles.

Growing up here, he had listened to probably every single record in the place, three times over. Besides the fairly large step toward universal integration, that was one of the greatest things of having the Corny Collins Show officially integrated, he didn't have to wait a month to show off his memorization skills.

Thinking of this, Seaweed started humming his favorite melody, a jazz number from 1961, as he shuffled around the shop, putting the chairs and table in their respectable places. He didn't feel like going to sleep just yet, so he began re-alphabetizing the records.

...

Seaweed had just gotten to G when he heard a slight tapping, which he ignored. There were far too many troublemakers in this neighborhood for his liking. The tapping continued more urgently, which he still ignored, his head down, brow furrowed again in concentration. He had begun doing that more and more freqently, trying to avoid having all his thoughts about Penny. He had to maintain some level of independence from her, as much as he disliked it.

The tapping continued, increasing in urgency.

Reluctantly, Seaweed looked up to a pair of baby-blue eyes partly covered by stray blonde strands of hair, fear and anxiety etched into them. Her hand was still poised closely against the glass, ready to resume the tapping. He ran to the door, once the initial shock wore off, and yanked the key out of his pocket.

"Penny!" he whispered harshly, knowing she could hear him from behind the glass.

"What are you _doin' _here?" he demanded as he pushed the door back. Taking a quick glance in both directions, and seeing nothing threatening, he grabbed Penny's wrist and yanked her inside the shop.

"What? You said it was perfectly safe over on your side of the street." she said innocently.

Seaweed scoffed, "Yeah, durin' the _day_. Penny, it's dangerous out there."

Penny shook her head, "It didn't seem dangerous, plus I had to see you. I had to get out of my house, it took ages, but I got out."

He pursed his lips, trying not to smile at the statement. "Come on," he motioned to the back room with his head.

For the past month, the storage and inventory room in the back of Motormouth Maybelle's Record Shop had been their sanctuary. They did everything young lovers in the first blush of love do. Sometimes, most of the time, Seaweed would just hold her close to 'd just lie there, foreheads touching, not saying anything as they just held each other. Each and every moment they had was precious, and it wasn't wasted. And sometimes they talked, for hours, about anything they felt like.

Movies, books, mostly music. In fact, most of the time was spent with Seaweed introducing Penny to the numerous artists and bands he had grown up listening to. It took up most of their time, after all, Penny Pingleton was about sixteen years behind on a full music education.

Due to the extent of their discussion of music, it usually kept them from talking about the rather large elephant in the room. Or rather, elephants.

So many things seemed to be against them. The law citing interracial dating is grounds from imprisonment, segregation. They had to hide the one thing they both wanted to scream to the world from the rooftops of downtown Baltimore.

He loved Penny so much that it honestly hurt him to be away from her sometimes, how he couldn't just go and see her when he wanted, and most of all, how it annoyed him when he couldn't touch her, feel her safe in his arms, away from the things that made her afraid. They hadn't said those three words yet either, and in all honesty, he was prepared for her to run off at any moment. That the pressure would get to her, and she would choose safety over him.

And then, of course, there was the one elephant in the room that was so large, it was bigger than the room. No one was directly pressuring them, no one knew to begin with.

It wasn't that he didn't want to, he did, and he wanted it to be with Penny. But, in all honesty, he was scared. It just didn't seem like the best idea, especially at the present moment with that aggravating law.

"So," Seaweed said as they were back in the sanctuary, "what--"

He stopped mid-sentence as he turned to look back at her. Her bottom lip was quivering, and tears were welling up in her eyes, some had already spilled over, leaving streaks that glinted all the way to her chin in the dim light of the room. She fell to the pillows on the floor that Maybelle had provided earlier that month.

"What's the matter baby?" he said as he sat down to embrace her, worry in his voice.

Penny sobbed into his broad shoulder, her words distorted by her tears as Seaweed rubbed her back soothingly.

After a few minutes, Penny pulled back to look at him, sadness still in her eyes as Seaweed held her face in his hands.

"What's the matter?" he repeated as he wiped a trailing tear away with his thumb.

Penny swallowed in response before replying, "I don't know, I was at home listening to 'The Sounds of God' with Mom," here she paused to roll her eyes, Seaweed chuckled, "and, I don't know. I just had to get out of there. I had to see you. So I excused myself early, and ran here as fast as I could."

Seaweed caressed her cheek tenderly, "What was so important that it couldn't wait until mornin'? You could've gotten killed tonight Penny."

She bit her lip guiltily, "I know, and I'm sorry. But I had to see you. I hate this, Seaweed, I hate not being able to hold your hand in the halls, having to wait until we're safely out of sight to really _see _you."

"I hate it too." he replied softly.

Penny laid her head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat through his shirt. It was erratic and irregular, and even though she was upset, it pleased her to know she had this effect on him.

Seaweed sat back, placing his head atop hers as he tightened his arms around her small frame as they resumed that familiar position that they had done for so many days. Sitting in silence, enjoying the moments they had.

...

After a few moments, Penny snuggled closer against him, tucking her face inside his chest, "Seaweed?" she said tentatively, afraid he had fallen asleep.

"Hmm?" he mumbled softly, still absentmindedly stroking he arm.

"I love you."

"What?" Seaweed said as he sat up, sure he had heard wrong.

Penny sat back and looked into his face, "I love you." she sounded so sure of herself, so unlike how she normally was.

He sat and stared back in shock, "You do?"

At this Penny bit her lip, sure she had said something wrong. "Yes...is that bad?"

Seaweed chuckled without sound, "No, of course it ain't bad....I love you too, Penny."

She smiled, it spread across her features, "You do?"

He smiled back, "I do, so much."

Penny giggled as Seaweed leaned in and kissed her, it was different than all their others. It was completely uninhibited, it was as if they had pledged their souls to each other eternally.

On that summer night, four hearts were bound together by the undying love that only a month earlier had been brought into their lives. Through the winding streets of Baltimore, and then up, up over the bright city lights, four souls soared up into the heavens. Never to come down.

...

Hello readers! I'm sorry if some of this doesn't make sense, I'm a little sleep deprived that the moment, but I hope you all like it!


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